


A Beginning From An End

by ChicagoTeddy



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dysphoria, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, SPOILERSsumodiesSPOILERS, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Connor, Vaginal Sex, im so sorry, vet Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 12:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17345507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChicagoTeddy/pseuds/ChicagoTeddy
Summary: Something is wrong with Sumo, and Hank hopes Dr. Connor Arkay, vet, can help.





	A Beginning From An End

**Author's Note:**

> !!!!!!! Spoliers but also cw !!!!!!
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> //////////
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> Sumo dies. Im sorry. It honestly hurt a lot to write, but I think I wrote this because...Ive never really gotten over losing my dog several years ago. This whole fic is from a pretty personal place honestly. Hank has pretty bad PTSD from a car wreck, which I also had for a few years when I was younger (that trauma is mostly healed) and Connor has a lot of anxiety about being trans (also relateable!). Both characters have dysmorphia. Hank is also suicidal in this fic. So yeah, lots of stuff that could be hard for some to read.  
> That said, I liked writing it and It was rather cathartic. I hope I dont make anyone too upset, it does have a happy (though bittersweet) end.

Something was wrong with Sumo.

Hank's stomach was in knots, his eyes on the fluffy mass at his feet, trying not to list off all the things that could be wrong with him in his head. The dog was past his prime now, his fur a little less glossy, bones a little more pronounced even under his fat.

I'm past my prime too, Hank thought sadly.

But Sumo should have had a couple more good years in him. He had slowed down dramatically in the past week, and yesterday he'd refused to eat. That wasn't like him.

Hank slipped his fingers into the St. Bernards mane. The dog scarcely responded, head on his paws. That wasn't like him either.

If this was really it, Hank wasn't sure he could keep going. Sumo was so much more than a dog; he was the last vestige of a time when Hank's life had been happy and hopeful. Without him, Hank had nothing.

"Sumo?" The vet called from across the waiting room, standing by the door to an examination room. 

Hank stood, feeling like he was starting on his walk to the gallows. Stumo got up with a little difficulty, looking tired and listless, and followed Hank to the room.  
Once inside the vet looked over Sumo with furrowed brows, crouching in front of him. He ruffled his collar of fur gently, wearing a warm smile. "Hey buddy...you aren't feeling very good are you?"

The kind gesture warmed Hank a little. The vet was young, less than 30 he guessed, and he could tell immediately that he was in this for the right reasons. This kid really cared about animals, not a quick buck. Hank felt a slight relief.

He explained to the vet everything relevant, noticing that the man's dark eyes stayed nearly entirely on Sumo, as if Hank were just a helpful disembodied voice. Could be considered rude maybe, to some, but Hank didn't give a shit as long as the guy cared about his dog.

"I'll have to run some tests, could be a number of things---Apologies! I'm Dr. Arkay..." The man straightened and offered a hand.

Hank took it, and his icy blue eyes met the deep brown's. 

The vet seemed to be actually looking at Hank for the first time in their interactions, and something akin to surprise crossed his face, a reaction Hank didn't understand. 

"Im Hank." He replied gruffly.

Dr. Arkay glanced away quickly, eyes back to Sumo. 

"You estimated him to be eight years old?" He asked.

"Yeah, he was already mostly grown when my son picked him out at the shelter seven years ago..." 

"Ah a rescue. Thats what I like to hear." The vet smiled. "Good to teach your son that as well."

Hank's chest tightened and based on the change that came over the vets face, he knew he had likely gone pale. 

The vet shifted uncomfortably, and the tension was palpable. "I'm going to do an exam and then take some bloodwork." The man had correctly guessed that he should change the subject back to the matter at hand.

Hank nodded. "Whatever you need to do."

Dr. Arkay did all the usual examinations, checking Sumo's eyes and ears, listening to his heart, then gently pressing on various areas of the dog's body. 

Hank felt his heart drop at the man's grim expression as he pressed on the dogs stomach.

"There...is a mass here. But it could be benign. We won't know unless we do a biopsy." The man looked up, meeting Hank's eyes again.

Hank could tell just from his eyes it was bad. This vet didn't have a great poker face. His body was feeling cold and stiff, while his head spun. 

So it was cancer. It had to be, right? Of course it was. And based on the vets dark expression, it was bad. They hadn't caught it early. 

He tried not to panic, tried to be logical. They didn't KNOW anything, and worrying now was pointless.  
"Do the tests. When will I know?"

"Normally a week, but I can push it through faster. I'll take the bloodwork first though, that might give us all we need to know...." He went to the counter and got a needle ready. 

Hank watched as the slender fingers prepared the instrument and returned to the dog. He wiped off a tiny patch of skin then petted Sumo reassuringly as he slipped the needle in.

Hank felt something inside him snap in a way he hadn't expected.

In the three years since the accident he had seen blood and death and gore at crime scenes. He had seen car wrecks and even gotten into a fender bender himself. But nothing, NOTHING had dragged him back to that day like seeing this needle slip under skin. His breath caught in his throat, and his lungs started to burn. He couldn't seem to get enough air, and his heart was racing.

The needle slipping under the skin, *̶͈̱̋*̴̞̹̤̈́̃̚*̵͈̅*̷̙̮̖̃̏̕*̸̱̂͗*̸̟̝͐̀̄*̵͈̰̎̔like the one he felt sliding into his own arm as he lay on the stretcher, watching the tiny body of his son on the other stretcher a few feet away, loaded into the ambulance.

"Take him first, he's critical." He'd heard an emt bark to another. 

Critical. Cole was critical. The needles stabbed into his skin, into Coles skin, the scent of alcohol and blood and gasoline...*̶͈̱̋*̴̞̹̤̈́̃̚*̵͈̅*̷̙̮̖̃̏̕*̸̱̂͗*̸̟̝͐̀̄*̵͈̰̎̔

*̶͈̱̋*̴̞̹̤̈́̃̚*̵͈̅*̷̙̮̖̃̏̕

Hank was on a chair in thre vets office, and dimly aware of a voice breaking through the fog of his mind.

"Hank?? Hank are you alright??" Dr. Arkay was crouched in front of him, his soft hands holding and rubbing Hank's rougher, bigger ones. 

Hank's throat was still tight but his heart was steadying. "Im fine" He assured the man, though he wasn't sure it was true. His face was damp. Jesus Christ had he been crying??

The vet looked very concerned. "I believe you experienced a panic attack, Hank." He stated, as if Hank didn't know damn well thats exactly what had happened.

"Yeah, Christ, I know..." He mumbled, wiping his face hurriedly. 

"Are you alright? Can I get you anything? A glass of water?"

"I'm fine I'm fine just...sorry, just finish with Sumo." He pinched and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, willing the memories away. He was going to need the better part of a bottle of Black Lamb tonight.

The vet frowned but stood and went back to Sumo. He had already finished taking the blood but he picked up the items "I'm going to go look. Will you be okay here?"

Hank nodded, feeling almost relieved he would be alone for a moment. He called Sumo over to him as the vet left, and scratched at his ear. 

"You aren't allowed to leave me, you big jerk" He said softly, meeting the dogs' watery eyes. 

Dr. Arkay returned a while later. He looked grim, and Hank felt the urge to run from the office before he had to hear the results aloud that would make it clear, final.  
"It's cancer" The vet's voice was soft. He was attempting to be delicate. It didn't make it easier.

"We have...few options. We could start him on aggressive treatment. Given his age and the advanced state though..." 

Hank appreciated the honestly, even if he felt hollow hearing it.  
"And the other option?"

The vet shifted a little and bit his lip. "Try to make him comfortable."

Hank tried to find something else in the room to focus on. There was a poster on the wall about getting animal's teeth cleaned, and a picture of a dog with a full set of photoshopped human pearly whites. Creepy. Did someone create this thinking it was cute?

"Hank?"

He looked back to the vet. "Yeah. Yeah I know. Lets...lets do what we have to do to make him comfortable then" His voice was strained, unfamiliar.

He could only vaguely listen to the vets plan, treat the symptoms since they couldn't treat the cause, pain meds and such. "And I'd like to give Sumo some fluids and anti nausea meds today as well. We need to try to get him to eat." 

Hank could only nod. Dr. Arkay wrote up some prescriptions and some notes on ideas for care. At the bottom he put his phone number. "Thats my cell. If theres anything you want to ask, or any changes, call me. Any time, alright?" 

Hank would have felt grateful, if he could feel. But his whole body was numb at this point. He stood and took the paper. "Thank you...Dr."

The man gave him a sad but gentle smile "You um....you can call me Connor."

"Thanks Connor. I appreciate everything." He headed out, feeling utterly exhausted.

Over the next few days, Sumo improved, taking well to the meds Connor had given him. For a time, Hank could almost pretend everything was fine.

Connor had called and left a voicemail looking for updates, but it was a phonecall that would disrupt his fantasy of ignorance so he hadn't returned it. He knew it was rude, but he was a sad old man, rude seemed fitting at this point.

Hank was at the store, a wholesale kind where he always bought the giant bags of dogfood Sumo went though so fast. As he lifted it into the carriage, a small part of him knew he probably wouldn't finish this one.

"Hank?" The voice behind him was uncertain, but almost hopeful.

He turned and saw Connor, his hands on a cart that had exactly the amount of green in it Hank would have expected from someone as lean as the vet was. "Ah. Connor...uh, sorry I didn't get back to you-"

"Is Sumo doing better?" The chocolate brown eyes had fallen to the bag of dog food, and he was smiling.

Hank felt something like a twinge in his heart. The smile was sweet, genuine...wonderfully dorky. 

Connor was extremely good looking; it was something Hank had noticed before but never really registered. The circumstances had hardly allowed for it. But now that his brain wasn't completely fogged up it was difficult NOT to notice. And truth be told there was no faster way to the pit of Hank's heart than Sumo.

"Yeah, he's been alright. Not his old self, but I don't think hes in pain, and hes eating."

Connor nodded, still smiling. "I'm really happy to hear that. I was...worried."

"Thank you. It...means a lot to me honestly." Hank's voice was soft, genuine.

Connor looked as if he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. He finally broke the brief silence. "It was nice seeing you. Remember, I'm just a phonecall or a text away if you need me."

Hank smiled a little and nodded. "Thanks Connor."

He watched the vet head off, feeling a strange twist in his stomach that he couldn't name until later: longing.

That evening Sumo wouldn't eat. Hank tried dry, wet, a mix of both. He tried adding chicken broth, and rice. Sumo looked at it listlessly. Hank felt sick.

On top of that, Hank swore the dogs breathing was different, more labored.

It was 11 at night: no vets were open nearby. He could drive to the emergency one, but he knew that it would cost an arm and a leg, money he would be in debt a long time over. He'd do it in a heartbeat for Sumo, but he decided to try giving it a shot, and texting Connor first. He probably wasn't even up.

'hey its hank im worried about sumo'

Almost instantly a reply came. 'What's wrong?'

'he wont eat and might be breathing weird'

'can you send a video?'

Hank attempted. File too big could not send. He tried another. Msg not sent. He cursed loudly.

'my dumbass phone wont wont send it'

There was a pause.

'Is it alright if I come over?'

Hank was surprised. Did he do home visits normally? Did it seem that dire?

'sure' 

He sent Connor his address. He wondered how much a home visit would set him back but he tried not to think about it.

He also tried not to think about the fact that both he and his house kind of looked like shit, and he was also about 2/3 sheets to the wind. He got up and hurriedly threw some trash away and stashed the bottle he'd been drinking out of, wondering all the while why he even gave a shit about what this vet thought of him.

Connor arrived within 20 minutes. His normally immaculate appearence was eerily off; his hair wasnt gelled, and some loose curls hung over his forehead. He wore a sweatshirt instead of a button up and tie, and he looked tired. He set the bag he was carrying down when he got inside.

He barely said a word or looked around, heading straight to Sumo like a man on a mission. 

Hank watched him, the picture of a concerned parent. 

Connor got out his stethoscope and listened to the dogs barrel chest. He spent a few minutes, then checked other vitals. He stood and looked to Hank. 

"His breathing seems normal. I'm going to increase his pain meds."

Hank nodded, and glanced at his dog. The knowledge the end was near hung in the air thickly.

"Thank you. Im sorry I made you come out here..." 

"You didn't. I chose to come." He stuffed his hands in his sweatshirt pockets, and his eyes drifted down to Hank's hoodie. His body stiffened slightly. "Are you...a cop?"

Hank could feel sudden unease in his voice, and it pained him. 

"...Yeah." He wasnt sure what else to say. Saying 'one of the good ones' usually made you seem more suspect in these tense times. 

Connor just nodded, but the tenseness stayed.

Hank sighed "You uh...you want a drink?"

It was the only way he really knew how to be friendly and offer his thanks.

Connor raised a brow.

"Im not setting you up" Hank chuckled. "No catch. I just...I feel bad you came out here for nothing really and Im goin back to drinking either way. Wouldn't mind having a drinking buddy."

Connor thought a moment, then nodded. "I don't drink much, but I could have one, as long as you don't mind."

Hank nodded "What's your poison?"

Connor shrugged. "Make me what youre having."

Hank chuckled. "Alright you asked for it..."

He went to the cabinet and pulled out the bottle, while Connor walked slowly around, eyes trailing over the items in Hank's house. Hank knew they stopped and rested on the photo of Cole on the kitchen table, but he said nothing. He was grateful for that.

He handed Connor his glass.

Connor sipped it and choked a bit. "Oh"

Hank laughed, one of the hardest he could remember, and Connor joined in. "Oh gosh that burns..." He wiped his mouth, but didnt give the glass back.

Hank drank his own, and sat heavily at the kitchen table. "How long have you been a vet for?" 

Connor pulled up the closest chair and sat near him. "Five years. How long have you been a cop?"

"Almost thirty years."

"Shit."

They were both quiet a moment, sipping their drinks.

"Im sorry. About the whole...its just..."

"I know." Hank nodded. "Its ok. I know you have no reason to trust me but...Im not a dick. I mean...well I am, but not like that."

Connor smirked. "You don't seem like a dick. You seem like a good man."

Hank felt his cheeks get warmer. Connor's body had relaxed. He was comfortable again.

"Thank you. I mean, you do too. Its nice to find someone that actually gives a shit the way you do. You seem to really care about Sumo."

Connor smiled, taking a deep drink. "I like dogs."

"I think he likes you too. He's not himself lately, but if he was, you'd be covered in slobber, I promise you."

Connor smiled more, and the edges of his eyes crinkled in the sweetest way Hank had ever seen. His skin looked so soft...he remembered the feel of Connor's hands over his back in the office. He desperately wanted to touch them again, now, when he could appreciate it more.

He tried to shake the feeling, taking a deep drink. He felt like a middle schooler with a silly crush. As if he had any kind of chance with this beautiful man who was almost half his age.

They talked for a long while, about everything in general and nothing in specific. They laughed a lot, and drank more, and somehow Connor had slowly and imperceptibly scooted his seat closer to Hank, until one of the jokes he cracked had him leaned against the larger man, wheezing. 

Hank's heart skipped at the touch. He could smell Connor's sweet shampoo this close. He wanted more.

Instead he swallowed thickly.

Connor pulled away, cheeks flushed. He was drunk. 

He stared at Hank with a strange expression, as if he saw something new and exciting there. Then suddenly he had crashed their lips together hungrily.

Hank was so shocked he could only sit there dumbly for a moment, while Connor clumsily straddled him.  
He regained his bearings with a gasp, pulling away. "W-woa...C-connor...??"

Connor panted, but didn't get up. "I apologize. I should have asked. But It felt right. And Ive wanted to do it for a while." 

Hank's head swam. He was drunk himself, which made the entire situation that much more surreal. 

"You...what?"

"I wanted to kiss you. And if I was reading the situation correctly, it felt like you wanted the same. Was i wrong?"

Hank knew he needed to answer but he was still lost. "N...no. I mean...Christ. Yeah I'm attracted to you but why would you-?" He was cut off by Connor's hungry mouth against his again, like an electric shock. 

His kisses were needy, messy, inexperienced and wonderful. Hank kissed back, thrusting his tongue against Connor's. It wouldn't go further than this, it couldn't, they were drunk and barely knew each other-  
But Connor shifted his hips down into Hank's lap, illiciting an groan from deep within him. Tease.

Hank rested his hands on Connor's hips, and his thumb slipped into the others waistband, ghosting over soft skin.

Connor stopped suddenly, as if waking from a dream.

He pulled away and scrambled off Hank's lap, panting lightly. "I... I'm sorry. Shit. I can't..." It was as if he'd just remembered something extremely important that hed forgotten about before.

Hank frowned "I'm...sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"You didn't! Its ok...its...its not you. Its me. I just...we can't go any further. I should go..." He snagged his bag, cheeks red. "Thank you for the drink." He was gone from the house before Hank could even respond.

There was silence, a palpable loneliness.

Hank stood, feeling confused and aroused and lonelier than ever, still trying to figure out what he'd done wrong.

The next morning he texted Connor. "Im sorry for last night. I didnt mean to make u uncomfortable." 

It was several hours before he got a response. "You didn't. I told you, I'm attracted to you. There's something I haven't told you and I'm not sure when or how to."

"what if I buy you a drink?"

Another pause.

"Ok."

"tonight? 8?"

"Yes. I want to meet you there."

"How about Dana's?"

"It's a date."

Hank chuckled. Was it? It was hard for him to understand what exactly was happening between him and Connor.

The date, unfortunately, wouldn't happen. 

Hank had been driving all the way home from the station for his breaks to check on Sumo, and today, for the first time in over six years, the St Bernard wasn't at the door to meet him. 

Hank walked hurriedly into the house, and found Sumo laying on the kitchen floor, his breathing labored. He could feel panic rising in him. Should he call Connor? What if it was something they could fix if he rushed to the vet? 

He texted Connor 'im coming with sumo'

He picked Sumo up as carefully as he could, feeling the muscles in his arms and back strain as he raised the dog's mass, but he ignored the pain. He carried him to the car, and layed him in the back seat. He was at the vet in record time, and Connor met him outside.

"Do you need help carrying him?"

"No just tell me where to go"

"Over here, follow me, in the back" Connor led him through a back door, to what was essentially an animal triage.

Connor motioned to a table, and Hank lay the bulky dog down. He was shaking, and he wasnt sure if it was from shock or the strain on his muscles from lifting a dog that was hardly lighter than himself.

Connor hurriedly got to work, moving nimbly, hooking Sumo to an IV and pulling several wheeled machines over that Hank assumed measured vitals. 

Hank knew he probably wasn't supposed to be here, but he sure as hell wasnt leaving, and Connor didn't suggest it. He watched in powerless desperation as Connor worked, doing what seemed to be an ultrasound on the panting dog. 

Hank looked at his eyes. They were pained. His heart split. This was it. He knew it even before Connor looked up to him, face white as a sheet, eyes full of heartbreak. 

"It's... it's bad Hank. A tumor burst. There's internal bleeding." His voice sounded far away.

Hank crouched by the table, setting his eyes level to Sumo's. They met.

"Hey buddy." Hank's voice felt strained, and he kept it quiet. He was only talking to Sumo. The dogs panting lightened a little as he watched his person.

"Youve been such a good boy for daddy. I love you so much Sumo. You're a good, good dog" The words seemed to calm Sumo, and his thick tail thumped a couple times on the metal table.

Hank looked up to Connor, and nodded. He didn't need to say more.

Connor walked off, and was back a moment later with the needle.

Hank turned his attention back to Sumo, burying both hands in the soft mane of fur around his neck. He focused on the St Bernard intensely, trying to force his brain to memorize everything about him. His dark eyes, his soft fur. 

"Thank you so much Sooms. I wouldn't have made it this long without you....I love you pup. Take care of Cole for me." He kissed him on the head, and he could feel now that there were tears running down his face.

Sumo licked lazily at them, pulling a choked laugh from Hank. "Good dog." He said softly. He watched Sumo's pleased expression fade away into blankness, the light leaving his eyes, and his body relaxed in death.

Connor stood holding the used needle, trembling lightly. "Im sorry" He whispered.

Hank stared at his dog, his best friend, the only thing he had left in life. "His eyes are still open" he said softly. 

Connor tossed the needle, then placed his hand on Hank's shoulder. "Thats normal. He went peacefully."

"I know." Hank stood. He was feeling oddly resolute, eerily calm. That was it. It was done. There were no tears now. "I want him cremated."

"I can take care of all that. I can call you when he's ready ok?"

Hank nodded. He ran his fingers through the fur of Sumo's back. He was still soft and warm, but something seemed imperceptibly different now.

"Thank you Connor. Send me the bill." He walked back to his car, not looking back.

***

The house was silent. 

Like a grave, Hank thought to himself. 

Sumo's leash still hung by the door. 

His bowl full of food was still on the floor.

The unopened bag from the wholesale store leaned against the wall. 

He walked through the silent house, and it felt cold. It seemed darker than before too, and the darkness seemed to be closing in on him more every second. He took out a fresh bottle of whiskey and set it on the table, then pulled the revolver from the holster at his side. He sat heavily in the kitchen chair, looking back and forth between the two. 

"*̶͈̱̋*̴̞̹̤̈́̃̚*̵͈̅*̷̙̮̖̃̏̕*̸̱̂͗*̸̟̝͐̀̄*̵͈̰̎̔Take him first, he's critical*̶͈̱̋*̴̞̹̤̈́̃̚*̵͈̅*̷̙̮̖̃̏̕*̸̱̂͗*̸̟̝͐̀̄*̵͈̰̎̔" The voice filled his head, just as it did that day. 

Take him first. 

Why didnt God take him first? Why Cole?

*̶͈̱̋*̴̞̹̤̈́̃̚*̵͈̅*̷̙̮̖̃̏̕*̸̱̂͗*̸̟̝͐̀̄*̵͈̰̎̔

"Daddy I like that one! Hes like a Beetover!"

Cole was grinning ear to ear, pointing in the kennel at a scraggly, dirty, young St Bernard.

Hank, a Hank who was only six years younger but looked far more than that, grinned, scooping his three year old into his arms. 

"You mean Beethoven?" He chuckled, ruffling the boys sandy hair. 

"Yeah daddy I like him"

Hank looked to the dog. He was big, and hairy, and slobbery. He would be a lot more work than the beagle or whatever he'd expected to leave with. He looked back to Cole, who just beamed.

"Yeah okay. Lets ask the nice lady if we can meet him..."

*̶͈̱̋*̴̞̹̤̈́̃̚*̵͈̅*̷̙̮̖̃̏̕*̸̱̂͗*̸̟̝͐̀̄*̵͈̰̎̔

Hank had drank almost half the bottle. The gun was in his hand. One bullet. There was one bullet. He could tell himself this way it wasn't really suicide. It was in God's hands. He spun the chamber, hearing it shut with a click. He pressed the barrel to his temple, his eyes on the photo of Cole in front of him. 

Click.

He took another deep drink.

*̶͈̱̋*̴̞̹̤̈́̃̚*̵͈̅*̷̙̮̖̃̏̕*̸̱̂͗*̸̟̝͐̀̄*̵̵͈̰͈̰̎̔̎̔

Hank had his car music down nearly all the way so he could talk to Cole. "Tell me about Miss Wheeler though."

"Shes good daddy but lunch was pizza it was really good. I also made a lego house. Can you help me with homework?" Cole's brain worked about a mile a minute, and Hank chuckled. 

"Daddy look at this thing I drew its you and Sumo-"

"I can't bud, daddy's driving ok?" Hank wanted to look, but he never took risks with Cole's safety. 

But it didn't matter. 

There was nothing he could do when the truck swerved into his lane.

*̶͈̱̋*̴̞̹̤̈́̃̚*̵͈̅*̷̙̮̖̃̏̕*̸̱̂͗*̸̟̝͐̀̄*̵͈̰̎̔

"Round two" Hank whispered.

The gun felt heavy in his hand. He pressed the cool metal to his temple again. The trigger was tight, and he pressed it down.

Click.

He drank more.

Click.

He drank more 

Then everything went dark.

Hank swam in the darkness for a while. Things faded in and out, light and voices. Connor was there. 

Connor? Why was Connor there? He dozed off again.

He faded back in as he was hauled up, and he grumbled and cursed and fought weakly against it.

Someone was dragging him through his house. "Leave me alone! Sumo! Attack!"

But there was silence.

"Hank please, Im trying to help you." Connor slid the larger man into the bathroom with some difficulty. 

Hank was only half on his feet for the ordeal, and still extremely confused. He was vaguely aware that Connor was pushing him into the shower. "Uh, no thank you, I don't need a bath-" He was pushed in, and the water turned on.

The water was freezing, ice raining down on him, and suddenly he was awake, and hollering.

Connor turned the water off, looking a mixture of guilty and concerned. "Hank? Are you ok?"

"Christ...Connor...what the f-f--fuck??" he shivered.

Connor pulled him to sit on the side of the tub and wrapped a towel around him. He ignored his question and dabbed at him gently with the towel.

"Connor how the fuck did you get in here?" Hank mumbled. Though he definitely couldnt remember, it wasnt like him to leave the door unlocked.

"I smashed your kitchen window. I'll replace it." 

"Sm-- you smashed my window??" 

"I came by to check on you. I was worried, you didn't answer the phone. I saw you on the floor with the...with the gun." His voice cracked slightly at the end.

Hank sighed, shivering a little. "Christ I feel sick" he mumbled.

"Hank..." Connor sighed and dried him gently, but before he could saying anything else, Hank shot off the tub and to the toilet, vomiting aggressively. Connor frowned and rubbed his shoulder gently, then gathered his hair, holding it back for him as he emptied his stomach. 

Hank heaved until he thought he would just collapse into the toilet. Connor stayed beside him, then helped him stagger to his feet. Hank flushed the toilet, then washed his face, exhausted. "Shoulda left me to drown in my vomit on the ground." He mumbled. 

Connor led him silently to his bed.

He sat him down, since the large man was rather precarious standing, and Hank scowled as Connor tugged his soaked tshirt up and off him. "Hey!! Jesus at least buy me a drink first..." He slurred.

"I think youve already had quite enough Hank." 

Connor went to the dresser and dug through the drawers, finding a clean t shirt. Hank could barely focus on him, his head was sill spinning and his chest ached.

Suddenly Connor was helping him pull the clean shirt on. He also handed him clean boxers. "Your underwear too. I wont look."

Hank looked up at him with confused, bleary eyes. "What, you dont want to see my junk?" It was as if he were hardwired to make light of these situations, and Connor blushed. 

"Oh I do." He assured Hank placidly. "Just not like this. Now change your shorts, you big baby."

Hank's brows raised at the remark and he hurumphed. "Rude..."

Once he was dry and Connor had forced him to drink nearly two glasses of water ("Christ Connor Im gonna piss myself in my sleep!") Connor tucked him in. Hank couldn't even remember his head hitting the pillow.

***

The next day he awoke with a groan. 

For several minutes he couldnt remember anything, but it slowly came back in bits and pieces. 

His room was quiet and dark. 

He hauled his aching body up and staggered out, across the hall to the bathroom. Afterward he walked out to the living room, eyes scanning it. Connor was curled up on the couch, sleeping soundly, still in his work clothes from the previous day. Hank sighed guiltily. 

He quietly returned to the bedroom, grabbing fresh clothes and a towel to shower. He knew he stunk of sweat and vomit, and the knowledge that Connor had seen him last night, the lowest he'd ever been, was humiliating beyond comprehension. 

He spent a long time in the shower. He always liked it in there. For some reason he couldn't cry when he was showering.

He walked out in sweats and a t-shirt, shaggy hair still dripping. Connor was awake, and stood up from his spot on the couch. 

"Hank."

Hank sighed. "Hey. I'm...sorry about..." He couldn't finish because suddenly Connor was power walking over to him. For a brief second he actually thought the other man was going to slap him. Which he probably deserved. Instead, Connor wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.

Hank was surprised, and it took him a moment to finally, shakily, hug back. They were silent, standing in the hall for a long time, holding each other.

Hank could smell Connor's shampoo again, and his deoderant, and the natural, warm scent that he recognized now as just him. He hoped he smelled nearly as good, and praised jesus again he'd had the foresight to shower.

"Connor I know you probably...think Im nuts...suicidal over a dog..."

"I know about Cole."

*̶͈̱̋*̴̞̹̤̈́̃̚*̵͈̅*̷̙̮̖̃̏̕*̸̱̂͗*̸̵̵̵̵̵̵̵̟̝͈̰͈̰͈̰͈̰͈̰͈̰͈̰͈̰͐̀̄̎̔̎̔̎̔̎̔̎̔̎̔̎̔take me first*̶͈̱̋*̴̞̹̤̈́̃̚*̵͈̅*̷̙̮̖̃̏̕*̸̱̂͗*̸̟̝͐̀̄*̵͈̰̎̔

Hank's breath caught in his throat. "How"

"I googled you. Im sorry. I know its rude. But I wanted to know. Im so sorry, Hank. No one should ever have to go through what you did."

Hank agreed, and though it didn't really need saying, somehow he felt better being reassured that his trauma was valid. "Sumo was all I had left" he mumbled.

"Hank please don't give up." Connor's voice was soft, his face against Hank's chest, and he suddenly realized he was crying.

"Connor..."

"There are still things to live for. Lots of wonderful things..."

Hank sighed "like?" He was genuinely curious what Connor would say.

Connor paused, grasping for an answer on the spot. "Like...fish."

Hank blinked, and pulled away to look at Connor with a raised brow. "Fish?"

"...yes. I mean...well there are over 30,000 different species of fish, and more discovered every day. Think of all the incredible fish you haven't seen yet."

Hank watched him a moment, then laughed. 

It burst from him like an animal escaping a cage, shaking his whole body and bringing tears to his eyes.

Connor laughed to, maybe from the sheer absurdity of it, and they were both laughing very hard, hard enough to cry, and then the were just crying, crying and holding each other, weeks of pent up emotions, anguish, draining from them. And then finally, their lips found each other again and they were kissing. 

 

*̶͈̱̋*̴̞̹̤̈́̃̚*̵͈̅*̷̙̮̖̃̏̕*̸̱̂͗*̸̵̵̵̵̵̵̵̟̝͈̰͈̰͈̰͈̰͈̰͈̰͈̰͈̰͐̀̄̎̔̎̔̎̔̎̔̎̔̎̔̎̔take me*̶͈̱̋*̴̞̹̤̈́̃̚*̵͈̅*̷̙̮̖̃̏̕*̸̱̂͗*̸̟̝͐̀̄*̵͈̰̎̔

It wasnt a sweet or romantic kiss. It was a desperate, life or death kiss. Hank had had it with the games. He needed this. 

He pressed Connor's lithe body against the wall, pinning him with his size. Connor was breathless against his mouth, trembling. Hank placed his hands on Connor's hips, pleased at how they fit in his palms.

"I want you" He growled against the other's lips, and it must have given the right effect because Connor let out a whimpery moan, his own slender hand slipping up Hank's shirt. But again he froze suddenly, that same fearful expression hitting him.

"H-Hank I-"

"Don't you dare. Dont you dare run off again. Please...please talk to me." His voice wasnt commanding, and all lustful coarseness was gone; he was begging now. *̶͈̱̋*̴̞̹̤̈́̃̚*̵͈̅*̷̙̮̖̃̏̕*̸̱̂͗Please don't leave me.*̶̴͈̱̞̹̤̋̈́̃̚*̸̟̝͐̀̄*̵͈̰̎̔

Connor frowned, looking anxious "Hank I didn't tell you everything. And...Im afraid to tell you."

Hank frowned as well, face gentle. "Connor you can talk to me...is it..have you never been with a guy before or-?"

"I'm trans." Connor spat the words out and tensed like a rabbit about to bolt from a hungry hound. 

Hank's brows raised. It hadn't been what he was expecting, but it made sense. Of course Connor's fight or flight had kicked in; they didn't 'really' know each other that well. Connor didn't have any reassurance that Hank wouldn't become disgusted by the reveal, or worse, violent. 

Hank's stomach twisted. Connor literally had to fear for his life when making reveals like this, and the idea that someone else may have hurt him for it...

"Ok." He tried to keep his face blank, calm. 

Connor looked puzzled but no less tense. "O-....ok?"

Hank nodded. "Yes. That's perfectly fine. That's what I meant." He slowly (VERY slowly) raised a hand to cup Connor's cheek. "It doesn't make any difference to me. Ok?"

Connor's panic seemed to slowly ebb, but he kept his eyes on Hank's. "You...you don't mind? You understand what I mean ri-?"

"Christ Connor, yes, I get it. I get it, and I want you to understand that it doesn't change a thing about how I feel. And I don't really think its a big deal. I mean-" He stopped himself quickly. "You coming out to me is a big deal. That's a huge deal, and I'm...grateful. Whats not a big deal is the you being trans thing." He watched him, worried he was babbling now. "So can we...continue?"

He already had half an erection, and he was bound and determined to fuck the sad away for at least a little while, if Connor allowed.

_Take me._

Connor stared at him, still seeming almost confused, but his concerned expression slowly softened as Hank pushed their lips together again. 

Hank pulled their faces apart only to tug off Connor's shirt. 

His chest was bare and lovely beneath it, dotted with moles. He bore two post surgery scars there as well, but Hank found those lovely too. He himself was covered in scars.

He look leaned in to kiss at Connor's shoulder, tracing the sharp blade, and Connor shivered as the beard hairs tickled him.

Hank pulled away. "My bed is...I need to change the sheets."

Connor looked wonderfully determined. "Couch?"

Hank grinned and nodded, then headed to it. Connor paused a moment, considering, then slipped his pants off and draped then neatly over the couch arm.

Connor was a briefs man, and they had little math symbols on them which Hank found ridiculously charming. 

Connor sat on the couch, and looked up at Hank as if for direction.

Hank thought a moment, then walked over and slowly kneeled in front of Connor. He'd feel it in his knees and regret it later, but he knew exactly how he wanted to begin with Connor.

Connor looked nervous but still filled with that lusty determination, and he spread his legs a little so Hank could shimmy between them.

Hank reached out a hand and set it on Connor's thigh, and this alone elicited a wonderful lip bite from the smaller man. Hank's hands were rough on his soft flesh, and they rubbed slowly over the thigh, feeling the light little hairs there, the growing warmth. 

His hand slid slowly to Connor's crotch next, pressing into the fabric to get an idea of what he was working with.

Connor was hard (already!) and Hank was delighted to feel the engorged spot. He hadn't been with a trans man before, so this was all unexplored territory. "What should I um...call..."

"Cock. Um, please." Connor flushed, the red travelling even down over his chest, and Hank felt his own cock twitch.

"Of course " He wanted to to have whatever terms Connor used in his arsenal for dirty talk.

He pulled his hand away and leaned in, pressing his lips over the bulge through the fabric. His breath was hot, and Connor squirmed slightly.

"A-ah..."

Hank mouthed him gently through the briefs, unashamedly drooling on Connor's crotch.

Connor, thankfully, adored every second of the teasing. "Hank...p-please take them off." He stared down at the older man desperately.

Hank chuckled, pulling away, but obeyed. Connor shifted his body up to let the underwear be slid off.

Hank's eyes traveled over him. 

Connor had a very light happy trail leading down into a trimmed bed of pubic hair, dark and curly like that on his head. 

His cock stood straight out, at attention, dark pink and swollen. 

Hank had never been great at estimating, but there was at least a good inch of erect length there, and he was very enthusiastic about putting it in his mouth. 

He leaned forward again, using his fingers to assist in easing the cock into his mouth.

Connor gasped. His hands found Hank's head, and dug into his hair, clinging to it like the reigns of a horse.

Hank was delicate with his mouth, easing his tongue gently around the cock, pulling the hood back, popping the engorged member into his mouth once more.

Connor's thighs were trembling a bit, and he watched Hank from above with heavy lidded eyes. "O-oh....oh f-fuck....ah...."

Hank loved to hear him curse. He swirled his tongue again, then tentatively slid it lower. He wasn't positive how Connor would react, if he was alright with this interaction, but Connor didn't stop him, and Hanks tongue parted the fleshy folds there and slipped inside of him.

Connor was incredibly wet, and it delighted Hank to know it was his doing. 

Connor whined softly, breathily, and Hank wondered if his beard felt good, brushing against Connor's most sensitive parts. Connor was certainly reacting like that was the case. 

He pressed his tongue in as deep as he could, even using his fingers to further spread him open, and Connor moaned. "A-ah...fuck Hank..." He gave Hank's hair a tug, pulling him up.

Hank panted. "You ok?"

"Yes. I want to ride you Hank. Please remove your clothes and sit on the couch."

Hank blinked. He wasn't used to being told what to do in intimate situations, but he found he rather liked it.

He stood up, giving his damp mouth a wipe on his arm, before he tugged off his shirt.

Hank had never been a big fan of his own body. Even when he had been young and active he'd had a little muffin top. His body liked to hold fat in embarrassing ways.

Now, just under 55 and more of a donut guy than a situp guy, he was even less confident in his looks. 

Connor regarded him like artwork, and for the first time it was Hank's turn to blush. 

He dropped his pants, then boxers, revealing the one physical attribute he was still relatively proud of; his sizeable cock.

Connor actually sat up slightly, and Hank wondered briefly if he had been done in by that attribute after all, and that Connor found it a bit too sizeable. 

However Connor just stood, and motioned for him to sit, which he did.

His cock was already fully erect, and he was almost proud. Still got it.

Connor stepped forward and straddled Hank, facing him. "You're very, very handsome Hank."

Hank's brows furrowed and he met Connor's eyes. Connor...almost made him believe that. And it felt good. He leaned in and kissed the younger man roughly, and he knew Connor moaned against him because he could taste himself.

Without breaking the kiss, Connor inched his hips forward, until both their erections were pressed together. Then he began to rock his hips slowly, rubbing the sensitive flesh together.

It was Hank's turn to groan. 

Connor grinded against him for some time, his slender hips grasped in Hank's large hands as he sped up, his movements getting more needy. Then he stopped.

Hank was an aroused mess, helpless below Connor. He realized what the other man was doing as he reached over to the pants on the couch, into the pocket, and pulled out a condom.

"Hopefully it fits..." He said bashfully, meeting Hank's eyes, and Hank swallowed hard.

Connor opened the condom and slid it onto Hank's cock, looking pleased, then lifted his hips. "Alright. Are you ready?"

Hank would have laughed if he wasn't so aroused. Connor was asking HIM if HE was ready?? All he could do was nod desperately, and the Connor lowered his hips, taking Hank's cock in.

Hank let out a low, nearly growling groan as he felt himself sink into Connor. The other man was deliciously tight, and warm, and wet.

His fingers dug into the porcelain hips a little, eager for leverage. Connor wasnt satisfied until he had taken Hank's entire length inside himself, and he sat a moment, hips flush with Hank's lap, to catch his breath.

Hank felt very sure that he would be happy to live in this moment forever, balls deep inside Connor, who was giving him the most beautiful, debauched, open mouthed, stare ever seen.

"C-christ Connor...you feel incredible...you look incredible..." His heart stuttered, and he gazed at him.

Connor bit his lip, blushing, and began to slowly rock his hips. He moved in a shallow up an down, pulling a moan out of Hank. 

He pushed himself up high enough that Hank nearly slipped out of him, before sitting once more. 

Hank stopped himself from crying out by kissing Connor's neck hungrily. 

"Im so full of you, Hank" Connor mumbled breathlessly.

He rode him faster and harder, and Hank raked his teeth shakily over his skin until he couldn't focus on anything except fucking up into Connor.

Connor was being vocal now, also unable to hold back, each thrust eliciting a whine of pleasure. "A-ah...ah...yes...Hank...ah...please....!"

Hank felt Connor's body spasm and tighten around him, and it caused his own orgasm to crash down upon him.

For a moment they both sat, sweating and panting and seeing stars, Hank slowly going limp still inside Connor.

Connor rested his forhead on Hank's shoulder as his body slowly calmed. 

Hank basked in the orgasm, allowing himself to be lost. There was no pain here, no sadness. Just pleasure, warmth, Connor.

But he couldn't stay there. Life didn't work that way. He ran his fingers gently over Connor's thigh. 

Connor sighed. He rolled off of Hank to sit beside him on the couch. 

Hank stood. "Stay there a moment, ok?" His voice was gentle.

Connor nodded.

Hank headed off to the bathroom, where he disposed of the condom, and grabbed a towel. He dampened it with warm water, and paused to look in the mirror. 

He looked...happy. It was a stark contrast. He felt a pang of guilt. Sumo was gone. His best friend was gone and to think about it hurt more than he could bare right now.

So he wouldn't.

He tucked the pain away, not buried but nestled, to be unwrapped gently later. 

Maybe with Connor.

Maybe he could heal.

He headed back to Connor, and all other thoughts left him as he saw him lounged on the couch. 

"Want me to wipe you off?"

Connor blushed and nodded. 

Hank leaned down and slipped the towel between Connor's legs. "You were so wet its practically running down your legs..."

Connor bit his lip, turning impossibly more red. "Hank..."

"Sorry."

"Don't tease me. I've... I've wanted that practically since I saw you."

Hank raised his brows, and sat beside Connor. "You did?"

"Yes. I like you. Why else would I have wanted to go on a date with you?"

Hank smiled a little and looked down. "I... wish...this had all been under happier circumstances."

It was bittersweet in every way. 

Sumo had led him to Connor. Sumos' death had made him want to die. 

But now Connor was making him want to live again.

Connor looked sad, but leaned his head on Hank's shoulder. "I do too. But sometimes...you just have to work with what you're given. I know youre going through something awful. But....you don't have to go through it alone."

Hank smiled a little. He slid his larger hand over Connor's and held it. 

He found that he believed his words, trusted them, and felt better. 

"Thank you Connor" He gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "So...what are you doing tonight? At around 8?"


End file.
